


One From Me

by forevertheuke



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angry Allen, Lovely Lenalee, M/M, Returning Home, Reunions, Then there's Kanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3219743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forevertheuke/pseuds/forevertheuke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody had seen hide or hair of him for an entire month and here he is, battered and bruised and wearing that stupid parka. They all had more then a few words for the man, but there was one person in particular that was going to be an challenge to gain forgiveness from. With a swollen lip, cheek and eye, is there any chance of Kanda charming his way out of this one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One From Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it!  
> Kudos and comments are welcome if you've got the time.  
> Till the next post, my friends!  
> (/ ˘ ³˘)/ ~ ☆

The day he came back it was grey. The sky was like soup, thick and stirring. In some places it was charred, black crumbs and pepper, streaked across the greyness. A foreboding feeling hung heavy.

Earlier in the day the roads had been a catalogue of cars, masses of mechanical beasts spluttering along the mouth of the road. When he arrived it was almost closing time. The occasional stray car wandered the roads, separated from the earlier flock. He discussed himself under the hood of his worn, thin parka; the flimsy fabric clinging to his lanky frame. He was tired. He was beaten. He was broken.

She noticed the figure first. She always did.

Her mascaraed lashes squinted, trying to home in on the silhouette hovering outside. They dug through their coat, pulling out a well-worn tin. Their hand beckoned her outside as it lit the cigarette, bringing it to its owner's mouth.

Kanda.

No-one beckoned her over the same way others hail a cab like Kanda did, arrogant prick that he was.

She leapt from her chair, coat and bag in tow as she gargled excuses to the others. The three men watched, bewildered and slightly bristled, as the lone flower split from the group. She ordered the one-eyed protector down.

"I will be perfectly fine," she repeated. Words nailing the man to the floor.

She strode with confidence across the empty floors of the closed pub, mind rehearsing one of her many pre-planned rants. She wanted to be angry. She wanted venom filled words to lash out at him, hurt him. And then she would reach up and heal him. Thread her tiny arms round his shoulders like she had done throughout the years. She would ground him to the town, she's be an anchor, forbidding him from doing _anything_ like this ever again. She couldn't cope if it happened again. She really couldn't.

"Be safe Lena lady!"

Lavi broke the silence.

Lenalee looked out the window again. At the man. Her childhood friend. Her messed up, battered and broken best friend. Leant against the wall, fag hanging from his thin lips, waiting for her company.

She pushed the door open.

The hood tilt towards her, wisps of smoke dancing from the diminishing cigarette. She demanded he put it out. Before anything the little cancerous stick had to be extinguished. He obeyed the order, spitting the stub from his mouth and crushing it beneath his boot.

"Nothing's changed then," his cool voice was unusually warm. Half-baked. "Good to be back."

She smacked him. She let her closed fist meet the hood of his stupid parker. She didn't hold back. The right hand first, slamming into the crown of his head. Then the left hand. The left was different. It flew towards him with as much anger and malicious intent as the right. She bought it to his hooded head and threw it down. Softer. Much softer than before. Patting his head as her eyes filled with thick, heavy tears. Overflowing as her voice crumbled and the words crawled from her mouth.

"You left us."

It was the truth. A bitter true fact. An almighty thorn in her side.

"You left us and you-you," she hiccupped and snorted as the tears licked at her flushed cheeks. "You didn't do _a-anything_. Not a thing, nothing. No phone call, no text." The parka remained frozen; the man inside saying nothing. "See! Nothing!" She retreated slightly, removing herself from the view of the pub. "You can't even make up an excuse. You just-just _sit_ there, with your stupid fucking coat and your stupid fucking hood up."She was shouting now. The street was now crammed with her words. Scorching hot and lethal as they hissed at the man.

She was bubbling over. Her frustration. Her anger. Her pain. The concoction of emotions were blistering and reaching boiling point. She lurched forwards. Hands fisting the hood and wrenching it from his head.

And she saw it.

His cheek. His eye. His lip.

"Oh my god," she gasped, the words falling flat as the air was heaved from her sails. "Oh my god," she repeated. "Jesus Christ, Kanda." His lip was cracked, a dark crimson rust holding it together, yet he still managed a wry smile. She let her mouth flop open and close, eyes dragging over his tattered face. "What… what _happened_ to you?" He didn't say anything. "Kanda please, _please_ ," she didn't care if she was begging; she'd squatted in front of the man, not caring if her dress had risen a bit too high. Not caring how her knees hurt. How her feet hurt.

"Don't worry 'bout it," his half-baked voice mumbled. "It's fine now. Doesn't hurt much." He'd pulled the hood back up, shielding his black and blue face from the world. "How is everyone?" he went on, trying to ignore her face. He ignored the pained expression. The familiar throbbing of his face. The guilt that sat heavy in his stomach. "Anything happen this month?"

"Worrying," the answer was immediate. He wanted to laugh. "Lots and lots of worrying." She'd stood up, pulling the skimpy dress down to a modest length. "Why don't you come in? Tyki can get you a drink, it might do you some good. I know Alma and Lavi are dying to get you into one of those loving headlocks, they'll pretend they haven't been fretting about you, promise." She was trying. She deserved credit for that. She looked on the brink of sobbing, her chest waivered and her words were coming out short and jagged. He watched as her chest heaved air in and out. "Please Kanda, just come inside, we're worried."

Lenalee took Kanda's hand and tried to drag him inside. Before anything, though, the man turned away and spat some bloody saliva at the floor. A mumbled explanation followed, he'd re-opened one of the cuts inside his mouth. Lenalee pulled at his hand harder, but Kanda was stubborn. He refused to move from his place against the pubs wall.

"Don't be worried, I'm fine."

"Kanda, please, just come inside-"

"It's only bruising, it's nothing."

"Don't you dare, Kanda! You've just spat blood! Stop being such an asshole and get in there! Can't you see how worried I am!?"

So he looked at her. And, god, she was beautiful. With her stark, thin lips and her large eyes. Jaw clenched and neat brows scrunched harshly on her forehead. All for him. All that worry, and that fear. For him.

Then it was quiet for a while. No speaking. No shouting. No glaring. Just waiting. For something, anything. One of them to give in, one of the trio inside the pub to storm out and join the argument. Anything.

None of this happened though.

Lenalee let out a cry of frustration, pounding her tiny fist on the man's broad chest. "I really hate this side of you," she started. "You're so bloody stubborn, Kanda. We want to help you."

The man regarded her with a look. It was an awfully strange look. Perplexed, like he couldn't understand what she wanted. Yet, at the same time, he looked like he understood everything. Her frustration, her panic and her pity. As if he could sympathized with her. He was acting very strange indeed. With his weird looks and mysterious injuries.

Such a stupid man, she sighed in her head. So very _stupid_.

So she told him.

"You're stupid and you're stubborn and you're too violent." He blinked down at her. "You have anger problems and you have relationship problems. You don't put yourself out there enough, you know, and you give up too easily, and, dear lord, you complain too much." She sighed, dropping her head against his shoulder. "You don't talk enough and you stink of cigarettes as well." She added, her nose pinching at the thick nicotine haze clinging to the man and his parka.

His voice was so very wry when he thanked her for the blatant show of affection. She just laughed and clung to the man, hoping her embrace was some form of comfort at least. Not that the comfort lasted long. Not even two minutes had passed when she heard a voice that hadn't entered he thought process once during the entire situation with Kanda.

"Hey, hey, Lenalee! Who's this guy?" Came the ever chipper chirp of the only group member un-accounted for. She felt Kanda freeze and stiffen significantly. She heard him click his tongue and swear quietly to himself. She watched him pull the hood up further.

She untangled herself and admit that she felt _very_ uncomfortable.

"Allen," she started, taking a breath. "Oh Allen, you'll never guess-" she didn't get to finish. The words died in her throat at the sight of Allen's face. Somewhat elated, yet somehow devastated. A very odd combination. One she had never seen the happy man display before.

He'd seen him.

She snuck a glance at the hooded man behind her. Kanda, oh how he looked guilty. Much more than he had in regards to her, she noted, somewhat jealous. She quickly threw the thought away.

Strange.

Or was it?

It wasn't. Not really, she decided. It was clear that their relationship was more layered then everyone had first thought. Allen had been diluted in Kanda's absence. A wishy-washy replica of his usual bright and perky self.

"I'll have to see you later, Lenalee." Allen laughed, fake and hollow. "Places to be and all that." His mask, however chipped it was getting, held firm. He smiled a wooden smile at the lone female.

Nothing was directed at the parka.

Be it a glance, glare or smile.

No greeting, no distaste, no anger.

No acknowledgment.

The pale man bid his farewell, pulling his duffle coat tighter and tying the scarf round his neck snugger. She nodded and stared shocked at Kanda. Again, the man just smiled wryly. He fiddled with the worn tin, contemplating whether he should smoke another cigarette. He breathed deeply and scratched beneath his hood. He also bid his farewell, his croaky voice a result of the cigarettes. Most certainly not down to his dissatisfaction at the pale man's response to his long awaited arrival. Well, that's what Lenalee had deducted, sarcastically, at least.

As the two walked off in their own directions, Lenalee stood in the middle, as she'd always done in the past.

All he heard was a crescendo of heels meeting the pavement. Then there was a tug on the back of his coat.

"Do you like him?" Lenalee whispered, finally catching up.

"Do you?"

He sounded worried at the possibility.

He wasn't even hiding it anymore.

Lenalee paused for a moment. "I think he's a gentleman, adorable and a giant pain in the arse. So yeah, I like him, love him in fact. But it's like I love you and the others." Kanda let out a breath he'd been subconsciously holding.

"Me too."

She smiled, tongue poking past her teeth.

"What, like him like you do everyone else?"

He shot her a look.

She sent one back.

He rolled his eyes and she smiled widely up at him.

She really was beautiful.

But while they shared a moment the real man in question was getting further and further away.

"Quick Kanda," Lenalee said. A glimmer of knowing deep in her beautiful eyes. "You've fallen behind."

Just as he went to catch the runaway male, Lenalee grasped him one final time. With a surprisingly harsh pull, she bought Kanda's hooded head to her own. Pulling it down and bringing her mouth to his ear, she relinquished what important information she held. Before he could speak, she embraced him, laying a soft kiss on his forehead and placing his hood up once. Kanda pulled her close and thanked her with as much gusto as he could manage.

While he attempted a run to the out of sight target, he heard her, rather mortifying, words of encouragement.

She'd bellowed it down the road.

"Give him one from me, Yuu!"

It took all he had not to laugh.

He ran, well, jogged in order to catch up.

It didn't take long to spot the coffee slurping male. So he followed him.

He wouldn't call it stalking, he damn well knew Allen could sense he was behind him. But we would admit his actions were bordering desperate. Kanda reached for the worn cigarette tin again, pulling his lighter from his back pocket. He lit a cigarette and inhaled harshly, pleased with the smoke filling his lungs. Allen slammed his brakes and Kanda almost lit the mans hair up. He flinched when Allen spun on the ball of his foot, his scarf untying slightly with the action. He stomped towards Kanda. He got so close the man would have gulped if not for the lit cigarette in his mouth. Allen reached forwards and plucked said stick, flicking it to the floor and crushing it with his converse.

"I thought you'd quit," he spat, angry as he turned away, resuming his previous strides. Kanda didn't struggle to catch up this time.

"My heart felt apologies," he snapped, irked that this was the first thing they'd be discussing after a month. "Been stressful lately."

"Poor you, Kanda. Really, my heart bleeds for you." Kanda could see the stress in the man's shoulders. "It's not like _we've_ been worried or anything."

He couldn't help himself. "God, I forgot how you're a little bitch at times." He muttered too loud for the distance between the two.

Allen's mask was off. "You have no will power," he spat over his shoulder, quickening his place further. "No sense, no manners and, for fucks sake, would you just piss off and leave me alone!" He wasn't sure what he said, but Kanda had slowed slightly so Allen took advantage and took a quick right.

Ten minutes of serious powerwalking led him to the local park. He plonked himself down on one of the swing sets and sighed. He was amazed he still had the lukewarm coffee in his hands, surprised he hadn't thrown the once scolding beverage in the assholes face. When Kanda finally reached the park he caught site of Allen. Hard to miss a white haired, grown male swinging on swings at almost two in the morning. But that was beside the point. Kanda worked his way across the park, swearing about how cold it was to himself. Allen refused to acknowledge him. So neither spoke for some time.

Allen remained swinging, sipping the coffee whenever he could and Kanda watched from his perch on the nearby bench.

The silence got to him eventually.

When he finally spoke, Allen almost missed it.

"I am sorry, y' know."

It startled the man to say the least.

"I meant to, like, phone or somethin'," he was mumbling slightly now. The fuzzy words squeezed from his broken lips were barely audible to the frozen man stuck to the swings. "Just I was busy-"

Allen didn't give him time to finish.

"Busy?" He barked, feet jamming out to cease his slight swinging. "You were busy? A fucking month, Kanda. A month. And what? You were too _busy?_ " Allen paused, breathing hard. "You know, I actually told myself that this would happen, right back when this-this," he struggled, grasping for the right words. "When whatever _this_ is, started." He snorted, looking at the soupy sky, watching as the brew thickened, bubbling till burnt. "Before you left, just before you left, I was actually thinking 'hey, this could _actually_ work'. Me and you, that is. And you know what you did next? You fucking ran, Kanda. Just like everyone else did." He chuckled at himself, throwing his head back, clinging to the metal chains suspending the swing seat. "I knew I was right about you. You're a coward, Yuu." He laughed the accusation out, crushed eyes and a small smile. "You're a giant fucking coward. A coward, and I actually liked you."

The words were quieter now, but still just a hot. He threw his empty cellophane cup at the man's feet. "I really liked you and you just-just," he struggled to find the words, using his hands to emphasis the unspoken.

_You just killed it._

There was an excruciating pause. In which Allen reloaded verbal ammunition and Kanda nursed developing wounds. Tried to at least. The man in the parka edged forwards and picked up the cup. He was battered and beaten up, new wounds, atop the old ones. Allen could see it on what little of his face was exposed. Blood leaked from his nose and licked at his lips. His eyes had blackened further. Cuts had opened up and a series of wounds were rising to the surface of his silk skin.

All from the words.

From Allen's words.

He had to bite back the apology. He really did.

"I can't make amends for leaving," Kanda spoke up, attention focused on picking apart the abandoned cellophane cup. "But I can tell you it was well justified-"

Allen prickled at the mere suggestion of it being _justified_. His reaction predicted. He yelled and he swore and he threw his limbs angrily towards Kanda and his ' _justified_ ' reasoning.

Kanda waited till he had finished, or at least paused.

"If not justified, then it was for a purpose-" It seemed no matter what words Kanda chose, Allen thought it to be bullshit. "Would you just _shut up,_ Allen!" He barked, his words loud but not angry. Tired, if anything.

God, his throat was itching for a cigarette.

The pale man simmered, falling silent as he pushed himself backwards on the swing, rocking to and thro. After a short while, Kanda also made an attempt at telling the truth. "I went home, to my home town," he started. Allen swung and listened. "The old man phoned me, the day I," he struggled.

Allen filled the gap.

"Ran."

"Before I left," the parka corrected, shooting the smaller male a look. He rose and walked to the neighbouring bin. Disposing of the cellophane corpse he'd created. His body shook as he sighed heavily, pulling his hood down for the first time, cautiously rubbing his hand over his face. Allen watched from his seat on the swing, He'd stopped swinging. Watching as Kanda sighed and pulled back his hood.

Allen hadn't seen the full range of the man's injuries. He felt his chest tighten and his own face ache with sympathy for the man. Holy shit, to say the least. It looked as if someone had slipped half a tennis ball under the man's eye socket, painting it with a thick layer of green. His cheek had a huge flower of blood under the skin. He swore to himself that he could see where the fist had connected to the man's cheekbone. Was it broken? It certainly seemed a possibility. His lip wasn't easy to look at either; cracks caked with dried blood and bruising.

It was wicked.

He looked like he'd been on the losing side of a street brawl.

Kanda had taken the neighbouring swing while Allen assessed his injuries.

"My brother got into some serious trouble," Kanda started to swing while he spoke. "I'm talking serious gang slash police involvement here. Way in over his head, _no idea_ what he was getting himself into."

"And you did?"

A small, slightly comfortable silence grew between the two while Kanda thought of how to respond. Allen let his mind wonder in the meantime. The silence reminding him how the two weren't the most vocal of… of what? Of a pair? A couple? Were they classified as one? A couple? What they were certainly wasn't a friendship, that was obvious to the both of them. What they did, what they had, he certainly didn't have with Lavi. Nor with Tyki or Alma or even Lenalee. Whatever it was, it was exclusively between them. And he liked it; he liked having something with this man. This battered man who left the bathroom light on. The man that slept on the right side of the bed, who always intertwined their legs in the middle of the night. The one that had a quick temper and the one that knew just the right way to get on Allen's good side. Who knew to add an extra sugar to the amount asked for when making him a tea, and the one that knew when he startles awake in the middle of the night, panting and sweaty from reoccurring nightmares, to just remain still. The one that let Allen cuddle into _him_ for support, and not the one who forced it on him.

This man, who was bruised and bloody and more than likely dead on his feet, but still stayed beside him. In some desolate park, on a pair of tatty swings, in the early hours of the morning.

Kanda hauled him out of his daydreams.

"I know more than he does, that's for sure. That's why I left. He was missing, well, we _thought_ he was." He'd ceased swinging, instead resting his head against the cool iron chains holding him up. "Police didn't do _shit_ , just figured 'once a trouble maker always a trouble maker'. Fucking useless," he spat. "All of 'em. We found the kid half fucking dead. Course, we got jumped too. I may not be the smartest person out there," he threw a glare as Allen snorted at the comment, "but I do know how gangs work."

The mood that just sprouted was slashed mercifully.

"I know what they do to a grass. I get why the old man was so fucking skits at Daisya, the kid fucking rolls in trouble anyway, but a gang?" He sighed, flexing the muscles in his shoulder. "It's just relentless. That's why the fact that the old man phoned me meant I had to get there quick. He was actually scared. The old man is _never_ scared. _Never_." He paused, looking down at the ground as he sighed again. "Why I 'ran', as you claim."

Allen just looked at the man. What was he meant to say to that? Was there anything he could say? He wouldn't just forgive him. Wouldn't just go, 'oh, alright then. You leave without a word for a month, for a _month,_ without a _single_ word... but, seeing as it was for your family, it's totally fine'.

Okay, yes, he probably should say that.

He should.

But he couldn't.

He refused to get over how the man just up and left. It terrified him. Really, it did. He was terrified that he'll wake up again with an empty bed. No note. No phone call. No text. No nothing.

He didn't know what they were, whether they were bound to one another, dating or fucking. He didn't know. But, did it matter? What he did know, though, was that he cared about this beaten and broken man. Him vanishing made Allen quickly realise how involved Kanda was in his life.

And It was the same for Kanda, too.

And when it came down to it, that was all that mattered.

He would forgive Kanda for tonight; he would take him home and heal him.

Then, tomorrow, he'd crack down on his ass so hard he won't know what hit him.

With this thought in mind, Allen rose from his seat. He placed himself directly in front of the damaged man. This beautiful, feminine featured, black and blue man. This foul mouthed, long haired git that meant a scarily large amount to Allen.

Kanda beat him to it.

He slipped his hands inside Allen's duffle coat, circling the man's warm waist and pulling him forwards, nuzzling the man's scarf covered neck. "I really am sorry," his voice was, once again cool. Not half-baked, not broken or pitiful. His voice was cool and crisp. Cocky with a little warmth reserved for Allen and Allen only.

Said slightly coloured man pushed Kanda away gently, cradling his beaten face in his gloved palms. "You're stupid," he mumbled, ghosting a kiss on the man's bruised cheekbone. "You're arrogant," another kiss planted on the tennis ball eye socket. "You're an asshole," this time the centre of his forehead. "You're not completely forgiven," Allen hovered over bloodied lips, "but you're pretty damn close."

Kanda growled as he closed the gap, lips softly meeting and caressing one another. Over and over. Allen wasn't surprised to find Kanda gripping his lower lip between his teeth; it did, however, send a flurry of shivers down his back, the sensation causing him to gasp. Never one to miss an opportunity, Kanda slipped his tongue inside the warm cavern, scouring every nook with his tongue. Allen's already buttery muscles seemed next to useless as he relied on Kanda's hold to keep him standing.

Bastard had to audacity to snort.

"You git," Allen murmured against the man's damaged lips. He thread his arms round Kanda's neck, sucking Kanda's damaged lip, his tongue darting out to lick at the wound. It had the desired effect as he felt Kanda shiver, tightening his grip round Allen's waist, fingers slipping ever so innocently under his top. "No, no, no," he laughed softly. Stomach flopping as he watched Kanda's cheeks inflate. "Are you _sulking_?"

"Just a little," Kanda mumbled, teeth nipping at Allen's hot cheek. He felt his nerves alight at the ministrations, the pain and pleasure sickeningly delightful. The bites and licks migrated to his jaw, trailing along and Kanda all but ripped the scarf from the pale man's neck, slipping it under his leg he returned his attention to the man's delectable skin.

"Kanda, please," Allen chuckled, slipping his own arms beneath the man's parka, trying to refrain himself from bucking into his chest. Too good. It's been way too long and he's too damn good, he thought. He bought one hand back out from the parker, holding the edge of his glove in his mouth, he pulled it off. He returned the bare hand under the parker and round Kanda's broad back, trailing his nails through the t-shirt and down his spinal cord.

"You're as bad as I am," Kanda huffed, breath warm on Allen's neck. "You're gonna have a bitchin' mark here by the way."

"Well aren't you fucking romantic," he grumbled, removing his arms from Kanda's back and pulling the scarf out from underneath his leg. He took a few steps from the swing, turning when he noted how Kanda hadn't followed him. He started at him.

"What?" Kanda grumbled, pulling the back of his t-shirt down, conscious of Allen staring at him.

_I love you._

"You look bloody awful."

_I really do, Kanda._

Kanda pulled himself off the swing, striding towards the shorter and flicking his ear. Allen laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he trailed behind him. He paused, watching the broader male and taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"You're not my mutt, Walker. Get your ass over here."

He'd stopped, not turning round, just waiting. Allen smiled, warm and full as he joined the taller. Kanda rammed his hand in Allen's coat, much to his surprise, and pulled his bare hand out the pocket. In his other hand was Allen's glove. He hadn't even realised. With a cocky grin and a raised eyebrow, Kanda slipped the glove back on. Painfully slow and taking great time with each of his fingers. Allen could feel his face getting stuffy.

"Jesus Christ, Kanda!" He sighed, plopping his head against the man's chest. It shook as Kanda huffed a laugh, pulling the smaller flush against him with one arm, the other playing with a lock of his white hair. "You're so annoying!" The smaller screamed, muffled, against his worn coat.

He pulled himself away, not looking at Kanda's face.

It was red.

He always went red when Kanda won.

"H-home," he started, refusing to look at the other. "Let's go home." he grumbled. Kanda smirked, swinging an arm around Allen's neck and pressing his face into the head of feathers.

_You're so cute._

"We'll finish at home," he choked out again. Kanda could almost hear the embarrassment.

_You're so unbelievably cute._

"Damn right we will."


End file.
